


Fall Into a Dream

by NanakiBH



Series: Synapse [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, post-143
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:24:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God, listen to this selfishness of mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Into a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this just to make myself feel better after hearing about chapter 143. This just made me feel like more of a mess, though, so.

A lot of things happened.

He fought, but he fell and got back up.

He fought and he fought and he pushed himself back up each time until there was no strength left in him to get back up with.

It seemed far too early for him to meet the end, but that was where he seemed to be.

For a while, he was treated to the film reel of his own life.

Seeing things that way, so plain and honest, it made him realize – this life he'd been living, what use had it been? The realization that he may have been no help to anyone, even to himself, hurt more than any pain he'd endured, cutting a place in him he didn't even know existed. The weight of that single realization made everything else feel laughably worthless. The pain in his body, the one who inflicted it, even the pain of his new existence – it was nothing next to the pain he'd given himself.

He was just a victim perpetuating his own suffering when he could've escaped from it a long time ago.

But there was no point in thinking like that now. Thoughts like that didn't matter and wouldn't help him anyway, especially now that it'd come to this. Even if multiple worlds existed and this were just one iteration, he knew that he would've become the same person no matter what choices he made. He would've walked the same path and broken himself just as many times to reach the same conclusion.

So maybe it was for the best that he'd finally reached the end, even if, look back, he felt like he'd seen it coming. It was over now. In retrospect, it all seemed so obvious that it was hard not to accept it.

If he could have just one wish granted before he let himself fall into the hands of fate, though, he wanted to see a dream. For a change, he wanted to be a little selfish. This pain, the feeling of despair, self-loathing, and pity, he wanted to indulge in it.

 

His consciousness returned to him slowly, but once it fully set in, it didn't ease him back into things. It let go and dropped him, cramming him back into a body that felt cramped and too sore to hold him. The pain he felt in his body was so startling that it distracted him from the pain he felt in his chest for a few moments.

It was surreal, he thought. This sudden awareness couldn't be the real thing, so he tried to open his eyes, but his eyes refused.

“Kaneki-kun?”

A familiar voice, sounding weak, reached his ears. He inclined his head in its direction, parting his lips. No words came in response. When he tried to think of the things to say, the words teased him, staying just out of his reach. He wasn't so gone that he couldn't remember what had happened to him, and he knew what sort of irreparable bruises he could've been left with.

“Kaneki-kun? Can you hear me? I'm here.”

Weakly, he tried to reach a hand out in the darkness, swallowing past the waves of emotion that he suddenly found upon him. Two hands reassuringly enclosed his, holding it with all their might, letting him release his strength.

“D-don't move. You don't have to move. I'm here, so... I'm here...”

Those strong hands shaking with barely withheld feeling, that voice drenched in tears; they could only belong to one terribly stupid person. It was a little funny. It made him want to laugh, but the only sound that left him was something empty and choked, a pitiful noise that rattled in the hollow of his chest before it found its way out.

Why now, of all times? He was supposed to hate him. If he were a more selfish person, he would have hated him and thrown him away because there was no need for someone so dangerous and destructive in his life.

But he was dead now, he figured. This was the afterlife for him, and sense like that didn't need to apply. He wished for this dream, and, no matter what it decided to show him, he wanted to see it through, placing his trust selfishly, foolishly in the hands of one of his life's worst decisions. No matter how much respect he lost for himself, no matter how much he came to despise the person he'd become, at least he could feel a little reassured knowing that there was someone far more hopeless.

“Talking might be h-hard for you. I don't know how bad it is yet, really. B-but if you can hear me right now, that's good.” He must've been kneeling by the bed. He felt close. His hand was lifted and Kaneki felt something warm brush his knuckles. “You can hear me. You're alive...”

He had a lot of questions, but none of them felt significant at the moment. That stupid part of him that cared more about others kept him from thinking about himself and made him feel more concerned for the person at his side. It was quiet, but he could tell he was crying, felt him shaking as he held his hand in a grip that was both too tight and yet far too gentle. But it was what Kaneki wanted. He wanted this; to hear someone cry for him, to be told he didn't need to do anything but lay there and feel whatever he wanted to feel.

“I-I know you're... probably wondering why me – why I'm here and not someone else. I don't know, honestly. I found you by scent.” He laughed, void of humor. “There was no one else around. I couldn't understand it myself. You were always surrounded by friends, and when I saw you, I... You were alone. That could've finally been my chance, you know? But when I saw you like that, I...”

It was easy for him to imagine. It was the last thing he remembered.

Laying there in that bed of death, gazing up the sky beyond from the holes in his skull, he descended into that silent movie-like state of unconsciousness.

There was no one with him at that time. If a crow arrived to pick at his bones, he wouldn't have felt so worthless. From the sound of it, though, he must've looked so pitiful that he wasn't even worth eating. How sad an existence.

“We're at my family's estate now. You're safe here – more than you would've been if we stayed in Tokyo. I don't think anyone will look for you here.”

Alone with him, miles away from anyone else who might've cared about him; the thought would've surely scared him before, but now it felt appropriate. It might've even been far better than what he deserved, but he was trying to be selfish, so he reminded himself that he could want for the things he couldn't have.

“We had a doctor look at you. A ghoul doctor. You probably didn't even know someone like that still existed, did you?” he asked. He laughed again, like he was doing it just to keep himself together. “You've been out for a really long time now. I stayed right here and fed you and took care of you, though. I've barely left this room since I came home. I... I think my parents might be a little worried about me. They rarely get to see me, and now I'm like this...”

He felt something nudge his shoulder, felt his soft hair against the side of his face.

“I told you to take responsibility. How can you take responsibility while you're like this?” he asked, pleading, sounding almost like he expected some sort of answer. Kaneki recognized that voice, though. It felt familiar, like the sound of his very own voice as he'd futilely yelled his questions into the void. He wanted to respond, but he still couldn't speak. Even if he could, he wasn't sure he would've had the right words for him anyway, but he felt like he knew what he wanted to hear, could feel the expectations that bled from his heart.

Tsukiyama stayed where he was. With his face pressed against his shoulder, Kaneki could feel his warm tears as they rolled down his bare skin.

“I can't eat you,” he said after a moment of heavy silence. “Even if you get better, I won't. I can't. To me, you're a work of art; something truly irreplaceable. I don't know what to do, Kaneki.”

That sounded like a confession.

Kaneki felt a little proud, knowing that he was still smarter than Tsukiyama. Even though those words had come from Tsukiyama's very lips, it still sounded like he had no idea what he was really saying. Maybe it was a good thing that he wasn't quite dead yet. Someone had to explain those feelings to him.

He heard him take a few shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself.

“Can... Can you still hear me?”

He weakly curled his fingers around the hand that held his palm and tried to give a shake of his head. It was hard to tell if he'd moved his head at all when it felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton. He felt like little more than a doll with a consciousness now, but the situation didn't frighten him. It was oddly nice to have his everything be held completely in the hands of someone else.

Tsukiyama lifted his head and cleared his throat. “I was thinking. I mean, I've just been sitting here for a long time, so I've had a lot of time to think, so... So I thought, 'why don't we leave?' Why don't we go somewhere else where no one knows us? Money isn't a problem for me. My family is wealthy and I have enough of my own invested. I-if we went somewhere else, we could live modestly for a really long time without having to worry about work. We could have as much or as little communication with the outside as we want.”

That was a big proposition. It sounded like a huge commitment, and it kind of came out of nowhere.

What were his alternatives, though? He didn't know whether he had it in him to keep fighting a fight that was impossible to win alone. He wanted to give up, to rest, to let himself be held and cared for.

Maybe it was just ironic that it would be Tsukiyama...

The decision wasn't that difficult to make. A while ago, he probably would've let it run circles around his head before he came to a decision, thinking about the way his choices would impact the people he cared about, but...

He was going to live a little more selfishly now.

Wanting to feel safe, he finally let his tears soak through the bandages and clutched the hands that held his, nodding with as much strength as he had.

Two strong arms encircled him.


End file.
